#whew. it's finally done

[malakaie]

House of Black + the Morrigan

I’ve been thinking a lot about the gear @tommyend and the House of Black wore at All In 2024, and what’s transpired both within and outside the House since then. I wanted to lay out what I’ve been able to find and interpret and what it may mean for the future of the faction. There’s some interesting implications for the overall metanarrative of AEW that I’ve decided to save for a follow-up post as this is already quite lengthy, but this is the foundation for things to hopefully follow.

As is fairly typical with PPVs, the House of Black tends to wear gear to the ring that has a particularly special significance; while there are recurring images of importance (mostly in the form of colour palettes, Malakai’s eye, and the masks he wears on a given show) seen at other times, the PPV gear always stands out, and All In is no exception.

Initially – based on the hint in this post – I had wondered if the “3 spirits” in question might be the Furies, which may not have been far off. @gravekeptsecret found this post for me in which the artist who made Malakai’s mask acknowledges the Morrigan more explicitly, which has essentially been the starting point for the analysis to follow. I wasn’t very familiar with the Morrigan as a folkloric/mythological figure, so I went digging, and while I don’t think I’ve been able to identify every image or symbol in the gear from All In, I did notice a few things with some potentially very interesting implications.

There have been a number of attempts to translate or break down the etymology of the “Morrigan” over the years; the most prevalent that I’ve seen analyse her name in one of two ways. One is to translate the first syllable mor as “great” or big,” and to translate rigan as “queen” – so “Great Queen,” put together. The other – and perhaps more significant for our purposes here – is to suggest that mor shares an etymological root with the Old High German mara and the Anglo-Saxon maere, through which we eventually arrive at the modern English “nightmare.” This produces an approximate translation that sits closer to “Phantom Queen.”

Some of the complexity around understanding the nature of the Morrigan and the beliefs surrounding her comes from the process of transcribing ideas that were largely conveyed through an oral tradition, especially when much of this writing was carried out by Christian scribes and monks as well as classical scholars. These writers inevitably had some of their own ideas that bled into how we understand the Morrigan today – but, interestingly, has also resulted in her name appearing in the glossaries of Christian and biblical texts in some places. For example, in the Vulgate (a 4th-century Latin translation of the Bible), the word ‘morigain’ is seen defined as ‘lamia, the Greek child-devouring female witch’. Elsewhere, in the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, morigain is identified as the “night hag”; we’ll come back to this idea in more depth a bit later on.

All of this seems to be describing a single or unified figure—so why 3 spirits? Triple or triune deities were fairly common in the Celtic traditions from which the Morrigan arose; and as mentioned we do seem to run into some trouble here arising from different translations, the discrepancies between different records of oral tradition, etc., but there are nonetheless three personages (by various names) that are largely linked into a trio under the “Morrigan” umbrella.

I was able to find a few iterations. One describes the trio as Neman (also spelled Nemain, translated in some sources as Terror or Panic), Macha, and Morrigu (also spelled Morrigan). In other sources we see Badhb replacing Nemain; or we see Macha, Morrigan, and Badhb as the trio. In any event, taken together, these three figures get described as a group of three sisters (Morrigna), or as supernatural beings who haunt the battlefield (Badba).

A recurring image surrounding this triad – and one that appears in numerous places on the House’s gear at All In – relates to crows, ravens, or carrion birds more broadly. With the capacity for shapeshifting, the Morrigan ‘frequently appeared among opposing armies as crows or ravens, sinister black carrion birds of death’.

In terms of crows specifically, there seems to be a suggestion that crows were often represented not only as omens of what was to come, but as agents in fulfilling it; this has some significance for Malakai specifically that I’ll get into later, but it conveys some interesting ideas about how “fate” was understood in this context.

For now it’s enough to say that the Morrigan appearing in the form of a bird or a crow ‘frequently denotes an ill omen, usually one that heralds a death’. Because these birds were often understood as scavengers, they tended to gather near battlefields waiting for corpses to eat. They weren’t necessarily interpreted as being evil creatures – which is something that has been a significant part of the House’s portrayal as neither unequivocally good nor unequivocally evil as well – but their presence nonetheless suggested some kind of impending danger or threat that would affect the living.

I want to also return to the “hag” imagery surrounding the Morrigan here. I think there are two major points of interest. The first is visual: all three men of the House had gear made involving claws and horns in some capacity. Malakai’s long-haired bone mask might be particularly striking, but all three of them—in addition to the crow imagery—seem to be coming in this most ominous form, this form most connected with death and war and tragedy and terror. They’re accompanied by a silent standard-bearer who also forms part of this war-like image.

In one description of the Morrigan in her hag-like form, she’s depicted “with grey dishevelled hair, blood-draggled, and with sharp-boned arms and fingers crook’d and spare, dabbling and washing in the ford, where mid-leg deep she stood beside a heap of heads and limbs that swam in oozing blood.” When asked who she was and what she was doing during this episode, the Morrigan announced that she was the Washer of the Ford and that the human remains she was washing were those of an armed force that was about to be killed in the coming battle. There’s some fairly clear similarity between this description and the long dark hair that’s part of Malakai’s mask; the presence of horns and claws; the patches of red in all three of their jackets. Red, especially, is a colour associated with war and death in the Celtic context; and Malakai has also linked the colour red with moments of particularly significant change in the history of the House and their opponents.

The hag or crone within Celtic folklore is often also presented as interpreting or prophesying the future, and has ‘the ability to transform into a raven, a crow, a hare, or a weasel,’ not dissimilar from the Morrigan’s own shapeshifting powers. There’s a strong link with the figure of the banshee as well in this respect.

Since the banshee is often understood to be a member of the fairy castes, it’s interesting that in some sources the Morrigan is also depicted as living in the sidhe, hills and raths and ring forts around the countryside that may have eventually evolved into beliefs about the faery palaces. These were often ruins of Stone Age structures and frequently play a role in Irish stories of faeries avenging themselves on humans who interfered with these dwelling places. (As a side note, Malakai mentions a ‘hollow’ and a ‘stone abyss’ in the caption of one of his recent Instagram posts which may be connected.)

I also want to briefly mention that there’s patches of grey fur stitched into their clothes at All In. I’m not absolutely certain of this, but I think that may be linked to one of the shapeshifting appearances of the Morrigan, when she appears as a grey wolf to attack the hero Cu Chulainn as part of her revenge for him rejecting her. We’ve seen more grey in the House of Black’s gear in general recently as well, which suggests a certain moral ambiguity (no man is ever truly good…) as well as a possible link with banshees who were often depicted wearing white or grey clothing, so that may also be a link between the colour grey and impending death.

Another image I noticed on all three ring jackets appears to be heads or skulls on stakes, which you can make out pretty well in this photo in addition to the grey fur patches.

This seems to have a link with two of the figures typically understood in connection with the Morrigan, namely Macha and Badhb. There’s mentions of the ‘mast,’ or food, of Macha being the heads of men slain in battle, in various sources, which may in part be tied to beliefs about the head being the residing place of the human soul. However, we also see a similar idea in one of the myths when, after the death of Cu Chulainn, Conall Cernach (another Irish hero) ‘returns to Ulster with Cu Chulainn’s head along with the heads of the warriors’ who killed him. Conall Cernach then proceeds to ‘[place] the cuailli Badbha [or] ‘stakes of the Badb’ all around a meadow,’ namely placing the heads of the men he has killed on stakes as trophies by way of his revenge. It’s possible then that the “mast of Macha” and the “stakes of the Badb” ‘referred to the same martial practice,’ so I find it interesting that this image appeared in multiple places on the House of Black’s gear.

The last symbol I was able to make out I’m admittedly not sure about, but it appears in a few places and seems to be three arrows in a bow. I wasn’t able to find additional mythological significance for this symbol, but there are three men in the House, and the House rules do point to imagery around arrows as well: “My past has shaped and guided me; it is not a crutch, but an arrow.” The presence of arrows could suggest preparing for a hunt, while the crossed swords on the standard-bearer’s flag is a symbol usually associated with readiness for war or battle. Taken together with the scythe symbol that we most often see associated with the House of Black, we have essentially three phases or aspects of the life and death cycle: hunting, war and death, and reaping or harvest. (credit to @gravekeptsecret for figuring this out)

(image credits fluxtidedesigns and soy_takeda)

Having laid out the symbols I’ve been able to make out, I think it’s worth visiting a little more of what the Morrigan (alone or as a triad) are more specifically portrayed as doing, since I think that has some interesting implications for the House’s current storyline and the way the faction seems to be evolving.

Prophesying or forecasting an impending death – whether in the form of a carrion bird, or in the form of the various hag-like figures that appear and are also reflected in the All In gear – is perhaps the easiest place to start. This wouldn’t be the first time that the House has engaged with the idea of death not as a permanent ending but rather as part of the process of change and renewal, and I think it’s within that same context that they’ve appeared here as a trio of war/death goddesses. After the war, what grows from the battlefield? What life comes after the violence, once the quiet falls again and the decay left behind is able to feed and replenish the soil?

I want to put all of this back in the context of the post where I started. I don’t think it’s the only place Malakai’s mentioned the presence of “omens” or other entities “possessing” the vessel that was Tommy End, but it’s a fairly recent one, so we’ll use it for our purposes here. It’s interesting in the context of the entity calling itself Malakai also being referred to as a “messenger,” where it shares a name (albeit with the Dutch spelling) with the biblical prophet Malachi. If Malakai serves as a mouthpiece for other entities, or has done so in the past, when they have something to say or express—or, in the most literal interpretation of the word “omen,” to warn the AEW locker room and fans about—the it stands to reason that the Morrigan could be speaking through him, too, in some way. It stands to reason that if the entity calling itself Malakai could enter through the damaged eye, that that could be a possible entrance point for other spirits or entities to come and go, too.

However, for a possession to take place, there has to have been a human soul, right? There’s some, I think, deliberate vagueness about the transition from Aleister Black to Malakai Black – but this video package posted pretty early in Malakai’s time with AEW makes the transition from Tommy End to Malakai Black fairly explicit.

[Excerpt of the transcript:

Doctor 1: You know you shouldn't get in fights with the other patients, especially Matthew.

MB: You mean being pushed into the stairs. That's what you mean.

Doctor 1: Tom, how many times have we talked about this? That didn't happen. It's all in your head.

MB: All in my head. Speaking of in my head, how's your neck?

Doctor 2: See, this is your problem. You think everything's a joke, and we're sitting here trying to help you. All you have to do is go to your meetings. Take your medicine. Maybe you'll start improving. You've been here for five years!

Doctor 1: Tom, I have to agree with my young colleague over here. It's been five years. You're not getting any better, Tom.

MB: Last time. Last time I'm gonna say this. My name isn't Tom. My name is -

Doctor 2: Your name is Tom! [...] We gotta get some help. Tom, can you hear us right now?

[...] Doctor 1: Tommy? Are you okay?

MB: I'm fine. You, on the other hand. You won't be. Doc, in all the years of digging through my head, you never thought that any of this was real?

Doctor 2: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Tom.

MB: Tom? My name isn't Tom. My name is Malakai.]

It’s heavily implied that the spirit or demon Malakai entered through the eye that was wounded by Buddy Matthews when they were both in WWE.

It’s also shown, however, that there seem to be multiple competing voices or entities in Tommy’s/Malakai’s head, and it looks like a battle that Tommy is losing in this instance. It’s the repeated insistence by the doctors in this video that “your name is Tom” that lets those other voices come more strongly to the forefront, and ultimately win. We kind of see neither hide nor hair of “Tom” for years after that; it doesn’t seem to always or exclusively be “Malakai” that’s in control, but if there are other entities that show up, they don’t seem to be human in nature or intent either.

Later, though, we see a pair of video packages that also didn’t air on TV (to my knowledge) but were posted to Malakai’s Instagram fairly close together. I’d seen them before, but hadn’t quite made the connection between the two; if you watch them together, they start to sound increasingly like a dialogue between two different characters.

For one, Malakai’s voice is noticeably different in tone and timbre between them; but the wording is different, too. The first video (dated February 5) is more vulnerable, confused, maybe even afraid – like someone who’s just woken up from a nightmare and hasn’t quite found the line between the reality and the dream. The second video (dated April 5) is more confrontational, maybe even angry in places, arrogant in others. I don’t think we’ve seen this dialogue come into its full fruition yet, but based on the wording (transcribed below), I feel fairly confident in saying that this is a dialogue between “Tom” and “Malakai” … which implies Tom has never been dead, just dormant or suppressed.

[February 5 transcript:

"What is your name? I feel like I woke up in a dream and I do not know who I am. But you, you who bears the name Messenger, are you trying to tell me who I am? Or are you trying to tell me who you are, because who are you? Because you are inside my head. Who are you? Other than the sentences you keep shouting at me. The same sentences over and over like a poem, going back and forth and screaming at me - deep in the shadows where whispers dwell, ancient tales there lie to tell, revered in mystery, his presence known, keeping secrets in the night alone, forging paths where light dares not tread, amidst the silence his words are spread, through the twilight his figure looms, harbinger of faith, in the glooms, echoing strength in the silent night, ruling the darkness with quiet might. What is my name?"]

[April 5 transcript:

"See, I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me, then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come. But who can endure the day of his coming? You will know my name. Without me we would still be shackled. I saved us, I was the oxygen in your lungs and now, now you claim I am drowning you. You owe us. Saviour of mankind, I don't think so. I could care less about your moral crusade. Across 24 years, a march both saviour and condemned. Which mountain do you choose to end it all?"]

Equally importantly, in the second “Malakai” video, the character or entity present here seems to present “Tom” with a choice, but it’s a complicated one. He makes it quite clear that he’s not going anywhere, that whatever “Tom” does he’s going to have to do it with “Malakai” present whether he likes it or not. But there’s still a choice to be made: Saviour or condemned – which will we be?

I realized, thinking about this, that this is something not unlike what Malakai has done to his opponents before. He takes certain options away from them, or at least makes them so unbearable or impossible that the only avenue is the one he wants them to take, but still at the end of the day doesn’t seem to have the power to truly force anyone’s hand. He puts FTR in an impossible situation: you can choose your family and “die,” or you can walk through the doors of the House and join them – but you have to walk through the doors willingly. They don’t abduct FTR or simply spirit them away. They create a condition where the alternative – not joining the House – is something insupportable.

He puts Copeland in an impossible situation: cling to your false humanity now that I’ve taken from you and forced you to confront the truth of yourself – or willingly walk through the doors of the House and join them. It almost feels as though there’s some kind of restriction, whether it’s a literal limitation on his power or some kind of code that he holds himself to, that prevents him from simply forcing people to do things.

It's compelling to me, then, that the same logic seems to apply to the internal conflict implied by these two video packages. Malakai doesn’t intend to go anywhere. He doesn’t intend to vacate the vessel he’s taken as his own. But he places the choice of what that means squarely back in Tom’s hands. He only makes it clear that, whatever “Tom” chooses, doing it without Malakai present isn’t a possibility, isn’t an option. It’s reminiscent in some ways of the temptation of the serpent in Eden: the serpent doesn’t tell Adam and Eve they have to eat from the tree. He only plants the idea that not eating from the tree would be worse, because it would leave them in ignorance of good and evil. Eve and Adam ultimately make the choice on their own. (credit again to @gravekeptsecret for connecting these ideas)

There’s also a Bible passage quoted (no doubt intentionally from Malachi 3) in the second video that I think is worth setting down more fully as below:

‘“I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me. Then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come,” says the Lord Almighty.

But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver […]’

There’s more to this passage but for this context this is the most important part, I think: if it leads to the House of Black itself being put through a cleansing fire, what comes afterward? Who can endure this process of purification and change? Will they survive it?

This seems to be a fairly slow-burning storyline, something that has been quietly in the works for weeks or even months now, but it’s notable that we’ve seen a fairly significant change in the House’s behaviour since All In.

They shook Pac’s hand after his victory at All In.

Brody shakes Darby’s hand after their match. That’s in large part a nod to their history as shoot friends and kayfabe opponents, but it’s nonetheless a new development; the house has been pretty sparing with their displays of respect for their opponents in the past.

Buddy does engage from a place of being a bit arrogant and challenging in his match against Adam Cole, but it seems to be with the intent of trying to bring the best out of him – in a sense, not unlike the Morrigan goading Irish folkloric heroes to try and get them engaged in, and ultimately victorious through, an impending battle. To what end? Why is it more important that Adam Cole be ready to fight than it is for Buddy to win the match? Why do both Buddy and Malakai shake Adam’s hand afterward, if not because the deal is done? They got what they wanted out of him. The Adam Cole who leaves the ring, having beaten Buddy, has confronted his weakness and vulnerability in a way the Adam Cole who entered the ring had not.

Malakai, in turn, shows a new approach to his match against Cole. He’s given – quite literally handed – the easy option of targeting Adam’s ankle, and explicitly refuses it. He says he’s not going to do that, that he doesn’t want that from Adam. He wants it to be an honest fight, wherein Adam gives the best that he can. When the fight draws to a close, Malakai doesn’t just lose. He welcomes it. He gestures, quite explicitly, for Adam to put an end to the fight, and – in keeping with the promo he gave before the match – an end to him, in some way. He’s invited – or challenged – Adam to silence the voices in his head (that, it seems, have been there since he first came to AEW, and arguably longer), and when the opportunity arises he gets Adam to do it. He accepts his “death” or defeat with deliberateness and intent.

[Excerpt of the promo transcript:

"Maybe I want you to be the person to end all of this for me, to silence these things that I have in my head. Maybe I want you to muffle the noises. Because if you don't, I will drag you down so deep that the blackest black you have ever seen will not compare to what I will show you."]

@gravekeptsecret pointed out that Malakai’s posture toward the end of this match reminded him of capacocha sacrifices or sokushinbutsu/self-mummification practices of extreme asceticism among Buddhist monks, which I found particularly interesting. I’ve linked some articles below if you want to read more about both. There’s almost a dignity in that. It’s over. He can reconcile “Tom” and “Malakai” and find some way forward if the noise in his head falls quiet, if he doesn’t have to keep up the constant fighting.

As a brief sidebar here, the timing of the matches against Adam is interesting. While the Morrigan’s first appearance in AEW happens toward the end of August, I don’t think we’ve necessarily seen another entity appear so clearly and obviously since then, and it stands out that the matches with Adam Cole both surrounded the date of Samhain. It’s a date on which both faeries and spirits of the dead were/are believed to have the capacity to emerge and move freely among living humans. Similarly, in some stories, the Morrigan emerges at Samhain from Oweynagat Cave, which is said to be a passage to or connection point with the Otherworld.

The week following, Malakai wears a mask we haven’t seen before to his match against FTR. While it shares some commonality with other masks that have been associated with the House – we’ve seen a number of versions of it in black, black and green, black and red, black and gold, white and gold – this is, I believe, the first time we’re seeing this mask in pure white. And it’s not just pure white: there are deep cracks in the mask. Like it’s falling apart. Like there’s some fault line in the things it represents that are going to give way to something new that can grow from those cracks. White representing newness, innocence, vulnerability. White representing light. White representing peace.

This has coincided with many other, arguably more subtle, things –

House of Black trying to call the referee’s attention to their opponents cheating/using illegal manoeuvres when they’ve had no issues cheating in the past, whether or on their own or through Julia’s interference (see: Kings of the Black Throne vs. Premier Athletes, Rampage 12.07.2024)

Buddy increasingly gaining the audience’s favour behind him in the wake of being “attacked” by Christian Cage

House of Black starting to leave through the face tunnel (see: Collision 22.06.2024; Dynamite 06.11.2024)

Buddy holding Brody back from chasing after FTR when they were challenged for the tag team match (Collision 09.11.2024)

FTR singling out Malakai in their Dynamite match and denying him the tag out to Brody in a way that’s more commonly seen done by heels to face opponents (in fact, this is something House of Black have done many times) (Dynamite 13.11.2024)

The nature of the House is changing. In what ways or to what end, only time will tell, but it’s noticeable, and I feel quite strongly that it’s something to do with the Malakai/Tom interplay going on in the background.

As I mentioned earlier, all these images and ideas together pose some interesting questions about how we understand Malakai as a “prophet” or messenger in this context. Is he just delivering the information about what will happen? Or is he, perhaps more likely, creating the conditions such that the omens he warns of do happen? Much like the Morrigan, he might have only been warning of or prophesying the future of the House up until now – but even the Morrigan sometimes interfered and created the conditions for victory or defeat of the Irish heroes and their enemies, and much like Malakai carefully manoeuvring his opponents to the outcome he wants, I don’t think we can rule out a similar level of calculation here, even if “Tom” isn’t consciously aware of it.

I don’t know for sure where all of this is going, and I’m definitely speculating here, but I know – or strongly believe – one thing: Tom is awake. He might be changing the course of the House’s future. By appearing as the Morrigan, the three men of the House together could certainly be argued to be forecasting a “death,” and further to have had a hand in creating an environment in which that “prophecy” or omen could come true.

What if the death that’s being forecasted isn’t someone else’s, but rather their own?

What if the House of Black as we know it is dying, to be reborn from those ashes as something altogether new?

---

Sources:

Olivia L. Blessing: "The Morrigan: A Trinity United" (2010)

Angelique Gulermovich-Epstein: "War Goddess: THe Morrigan and Her Germano-Celtic Counterparts" (1998)

W. M. Hennessey: "On the Goddess of War of the Ancient Irish" (1866)

Alexander Haggerty Krappe: "The Valkyrie Episode in the Njals Saga" (1928)

Alicia Karen Littleford: "The Divine Feminine: A Study of the Cyclical Representation of Life and Death in Irish and Norse Female Supernatural Figures" (2023)

Nancy Ann Parker: "The Mythical and Mortal Crone: Recollecting and Reclaiming the Sacred Regeneratrix" (2009)

Emily Asia Ruch: "Wyrd Webs and Woven Words: Archetypal Expressions of Fate in Classical, Celtic, and Norse Mythology" (2021)

Marie-Louise Sjoestedt: "Gods and Heroes of the Celts," translation by Myles Dillon (1994)

Courtney Weber & Lora O'Brien: "The Morrigan: Celtic goddess of magick and might" (2019)

Capacocha

Self-mummification/sokushinbutsu

[daeyumi]

💫🌟 There Flowed Forth (Consecration of the Self) ☀️✨

[Cycle of the Stars au]

[marshmallowgoop]

And I'm just a little messed up I'm a little out of my head

[Song link] [YouTube link]

[starshipoftheseus]

10.19.24 (SEA vs CGY): JOEY DACCORD wins second star of the night and yeets the fish with camera glasses on have you seen him with glasses on are you seeing this he's wearing glasses can you believe this he's wearing glasses—

[useragarfield]

I know what it looks like when you’re in love with someone.

BILLY DUNNE & DAISY JONES Daisy Jones & the Six | “Looks Like We Made It” 1.08 (2023)

[gauloiseblue]

Medic!Reader × Poly!141

Part I | Part II | Part III

[Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, a love confession if you squint]

Taglist: @rainlovesyou12 @nijiru

When you're back at the base, the first thing that you get from your team is collective stares

"What happened to your cheek?" Price asked, visibly concerned

"Got punched by an asshole." You replied, still holding the ice pack against your face

"How did it happen?" He then glares at Graves, "You let this happen on your watch?"

He throws both of his hands in the air, while maintaining his smug face, "Easy there, soldiers." He said, "Sorry that I got your princess harmed, but it's necessary for the mission."

"Necessary?" Price growls, "Watch your mouth when you speak, Graves."

"Alright, alright. I'll leave." He then pats on Gaz's shoulder before turning around

The group immediately approaches you after he leaves, trying to look at your wound

"Whoa, he really gave you a nasty punch." Soap commented, "He wore rings?"

"All over his fingers."

"It'll take long before the bruise heals." Ghost interjected, "Since you're the medic here, I'm sure you know what's best for you."

Price nods before he looks at you, "You don't have to work today, you can rest after a mission."

"No, I'll come to work." You said, "Don't worry about me, captain."

He seems reluctant, but lets you do it anyway

Thankfully, your job requires you to use a mask, so most of your bruises are concealed.

At dinner, Graves brings quite a lot of alcohol to celebrate their mission. (The team had retrieved the important documents, as well as eliminating the target, so It's pretty much a success)

You usually skipped alcohol, but tonight you feel like you need it, so you join in

The table that you're in is pretty big, so three other soldiers are sitting with you and you team

Surprisingly, your team can handle their alcohol very well, but Soap is a lively drunkard, he talks a lot, and keeps the alcohol flows

Meanwhile, you're a chatty drunk. You can't keep a secret when you're drunk

"He touched me with his filthy hand, so of course I'd slap him." You confessed, "But then he dared to punch me in the face. The audacity."

"That's rough." Gaz winced

"But y'know, sometimes our job comes with those kinds of things." One of the men shrugged, "I didn't ask for it when I got shot or tortured, but then again, that's the consequences of my job."

"I didn't ask to be a surveillance." You hissed, "I'm just a medic, for God's sake."

"You could've ask him—"

"I did! I even tried to reason with him but nooo, he did care." You grit your teeth, "Even after roping me into this, he never once gave me any info for the mission and told me to be pretty and meek. At least I could've prepared if he told me things I could be dealing with during the mission."

"Cut it out, boy." Price stopped him before he could reply, "Y'know Graves was in the wrong here. We always brief our soldiers before missions."

"I'm not defending him."

The other man, who's silent for the whole interaction, finally speaks, "Maybe he did it because you've been using his name for unnecessary things."

You snort, "Somehow borrowing his name equals me almost getting raped?"

He shrugs, "Sometimes mentioning a certain name equals death."

"Yeah, okay, I get it." You immediately got up from your seat, "I'm just a spoiled bastard who can't handle the slightest discomfort aren't I?"

"Where are ye goin'?" Soap called when you're walking away

"My room. I'm tired of this shit."

Once you get into your room, you don’t bother to change your clothes as you go straight to bed

Of course, after getting angry and all, you can't immediately fall asleep. It takes about 15 minutes, before you're free from your anger

Then, you hear a knock on the door, before you hear a voice calls your name softly from outside

"Are you still awake?" You heard Price spoke

You contemplate whether you should answer or not, and decide to pick the first one

"Can I come in?" He asked, and you said yes

He steps inside, and pulls a chair by your bed. You turn around to see him, not hiding the tears streak on your face

"I'm sorry for what happened earlier, I hope you know he didn't mean that."

"I know." You frown while looking away, "I know all of those soldiers didn't mean to yell, or use hurtful words, I understand that, but I always try to comfort them, not telling them to grin and bear it."

He nods understandingly, "The constant threat in the field does make people numb to other's needs."

"Why are you here? Are you apologizing on their behalf?"

"No, I just got a feeling that you'd change division if I didn't clear it up."

You let out an amused snort, "I was just thinking about leaving. I hate Graves anyway."

"I won't force you to stay but I'll be very sad if you don't, you know how much I love your food." You roll your eyes at him, he chuckles, "Please hold on for one more month, then we'll go back home, to our base."

"Well, I can't disobey you if you say that, Captain."

"You better be."

You chuckle at him, and he gives you his usual (and sweet) smile. "Thank you, Price. I really do."

"No prob." He pats your arm, "You can talk to me whenever you want."

"I'll keep it in mind."

The next morning, when you're preparing your medical equipments, a patient comes into the room, and catches you by surprise as you recognize his face

"Johnny? Oh—" You hurriedly come to his side, "What happened to your face?"

"Got into a fight last nite." He grins, "Y'should've seen the other guy tho."

"My God, why did you do that? Who was it?" He looked away when you asked him, "... Don't tell me,"

"Ye don't 've ta worry 'bout it, bonnie."

"You can't make me not worry about you." You retorted, "They could've given a penalty!"

"Nah, they won't. 'M too valuable for that."

"Still," You let out a sigh, "You didn't have to do that."

"Yer angry at 'em."

"But it's only for a moment. I'm… used to that."

He looks at you for a moment, before pulling your hand into his. "Bonnie, ye kno' when you asked me to be a fake boyfie, ye told me that no one in the group'd be willin' ta help ya?" You furrow your brows at him as he continues, "Well, t'was a lie. They won't hesitate ta help ya, bonnie. But I didn't tell ya because I don't want 'em to."

You open your mouth to speak, but no word comes out of your mouth.

He chuckles at your silence, before giving your shoulder a pat." Make of that wha' yer will."

With that, he left the room. Leaving you there, dumbfounded, before you realize you haven't even treated him yet

You thought about him for half of a day, until lunch came and you sat down on the table without looking around. You didn't hear when the chair beside you was pulled, before someone took a seat

"Man, I miss your cooking." You snapped out of your thoughts, as you turned to see Gaz. "Everything tastes bland here, I can't even tell the difference between one dish and the other."

You chuckle when he pokes out his tongue in dismay, "I miss cooking too," You stare down at your plate, "... Helped me clear my mind."

"What's on your mind?" He asked, "Care to share?"

"Not sure if you'd wanna hear it though."

"What are you saying?" He retorted softly as he gave your shoulder a squeeze, "You know I'd listen to you."

"You're sweet, Gaz." You chuckled, "But really, I just wanna go back to our base. But at the same time, I feel like I'm just retreating back to my shell. I know that I can't be choosy for this job, but I wish I could be with you guys for a long time."

His gaze stays on you for a while, before he speaks in a hushed tone, "Don't tell anyone that I say this to you, but last night, me and Price were discussing about your contract, and," He leans closer, "It's possible to do a rescission for the contract. Since you've been put in harm's way."

"Really?"

He nods, "He might pull some strings to get you back, but the higher ups would dismiss it since you're not an operator. We're confident that this'll work, since Laswell herself has approved it."

You look at him for a moment, before pulling him into your arms. "Thank you." You said to him, "I don't know what I'd do without you guys."

You feel him smile before he pats your back, "People said that you're a spoiled princess," He grinned, "But we certainly don't mind spoiling you."

"You'll regret it someday."

"You're worth the regret."

His words stuck with you for the rest of the day, and somehow it lifted up your spirit as you took care of the wounded with ease. At night, when you're walking back to your room, you spot the masked man in the hallway. His head turns when you call his name, and you wave at him.

"Hi."

"Hey."

"Are you done for the day?"

"Mostly." He replied, "Just need to fill some paperwork."

"Alright then."

The two of you would bid goodbye, if you both didn't hear the angry stomp echoing in the corridor. You turn your head towards the sound, and your blood runs cold as you recognize the face

"I need to talk to you." Graves said with an unmistakable rage in his voice, "My office. Now."

You're about to open your mouth before you feel yourself pulled, until your body bumps against a hard muscle. It takes a second before you realize that Simon has his arm wrapped around you.

"Get outta the way, boy." He warned with a glare, "It's none of your business."

"No." He stated, as he kept you by his side

He snorts when he hears it. "No?" He sneered

"If it's about the revocation of the contract, she's not the one who filed it." He glared, "I did."

"Oh." He raised his brow in a mocking manner, "So you're the one who wrote those things?"

"Affirmative." He responded, "I was the one who saw her during the assault, so I'm eligible to give the account as a witness."

You see his muscles harden under his neck, as he hisses to the masked man, "I hope you're ready for Russia because that's where I'm sending you."

"Go ahead and try."

Just like that, the storm has passed by.

You don't know how long you stand there, before he reluctantly lets you go from his arm. You clear your throat as you step aside to face him.

"Um… Thank you." You told him while looking down

You feel his eyes on you, before his hand reaches up to pat your head. "It's nothing."

He bids you goodnight as he tells you to return to your room. You obey as you walk to your door, but when you look back to see him, you still find him standing on the same spot

The next morning, when you deliver your report to the Captain's office, you notice a familiar figure by his desk

The two men were talking, before they lifted their head when you walked in

"Hi." You greeted them, "Hope I'm not interrupting?"

"Not at all." Price reassured, "We were just discussing over something."

"Somethin' ta help fo' yer case, bonnie." His captain nudged him when he said it, "Wot? 'M sho she a'ready knew."

"Is it about Graves?"

"Well," He sighs, "It is. We were just talking about the things that he submitted as evidence."

You shot him a puzzled look, before you turn to Soap.

"The letters, bonnie." He grinned, "I gave him the letters tha' bastard wrote."

"You still had those with you?"

"'Course!" He chuckled, "Ah wanted to use it to rile him up, turns out they're useful for yer case."

"While they won't be included as real evidence, they're enough to convince Laswell to give her approval."

You look at him, while hugging the file close to your chest. "Price, I don't know if I could even repay you back—"

"Don't worry about it, (Name)." He dismissed it by a flick of his hand, "It's my job to ensure your safety."

"And out job ta keep the valuable member o' the team by our side." Soap added with a pat on your back, "Graves can bugger off with his shite."

"Oh…" You cover your mouth, trying to contain your emotions. "Thank you, I—"

"Stop it, bonnie." He said as he pulled you against his chest, "You owe us nothin'."

You didn't cry joyless tears, but they didn't know since you couldn't speak through your sob. You feel bad for causing them to panic, since you cry not out of distress, rather, you're touched by their kindness. When you feel Soap's embrace tightens, and your Captain's hand on your back, you can't help but indulge for a little while

[onefey]

in the aftermath of the first conflict with calamity ganon, the royal family made an order of the sheikah;

"seal away every guardian, every divine beast, every trace of advancement. return to living simple, peaceful lives."

it was the princess who, even with the power of the full triforce, feared the inevitable return of ganon.

she did not wish for history to repeat.

a prediction comic for tears of the kingdom. the story of what really happened 10,000 years ago - it's not quite as simple as the tapestries make it out to be.

see you in may!

(note: this comic was drafted and partway done before the artbook leak. for the sake of keeping things spoiler-free, i did not change anything after the leak. so don't worry about any of that.)

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Horrible new theory about Runaan's shirt today.

-no, not the new one, the one he lost-

He's still got his green assassin shirt here on the balcony, and vest too:

But by the time Gren is thrown into the dungeon a couple days later, it's missing.

Runaan's also sporting bags under his eyes because he'd been kept awake all night, enjoying Viren's frustrations about losing Harrow and also getting denied the crown of Katolis.

So. About that missing shirt.

I can't think of too many things worse for a guy who wears four shirts at once than to have them all taken off while he's badly hurt and manacled to the wall, and then be tickled half to death all night long, on his birthday.

[therealjustpeachesback]

Little rant about Sukuna’s backstories and some theories lol.

So we all know that Sukuna was cursed and unwanted child. His translation roughly means ‘child who shouldn’t have been born.’ But despite being shunned on in society- especially in an era with specific standards, he still managed to become a king and even had the Shogun shivering his boots ( I think..)

Sukuna’s mother was ill and starving when he and his twin was in the womb- which led to them being malnourished and Sukuna eating his twin brother.

BUT in the Yorozu fight- Sukuna mocks and corrects Yorozu’s haiku. It’s obvious he has a good knowledge in reading and writing to the point where he can enjoy and understand the arts during the Heian Era. The Heian Era was historically the golden age of Japan and was known for literature and poems such as ‘The Tale of Genji’ and etc. This education and art was only available to the upper class of society and the nobles.

It was clear Sukuna and his family were NOT nobles or an aristocratic family. If his mother was- she wouldn’t be starving and ill. It makes it clear that Sukuna learnt this along the way- and he wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He definitely grew up in poverty and it made it even worse that he was born disabled and practiced cannibalism. This made him even more shunned upon aside the fact that he was poor- Sukuna must’ve learn this along the way of climbing up the social status.

In the Heian Era, it was actually easier for women (mostly noble women) to climb up the social status ladder- by being married off to a high ranking family was easy. But men on the other hand, were forced to work harder. Sukuna has a great knowledge of Jujutsu- but with such a refined technique and it might be from all the years of experience he had. BUT learning by yourself only takes you so far- I always thought that Sukuna must’ve learnt ( or maybe spied) on other sorcerers and learned how to fight. From a person who came from a poverty stricken background- you obviously need a high education and maybe he didn’t do it all by himself. Maybe that’s where the aspect of him already knowing what ‘true love’ is.

If my theories are correct please hmu 🔥

[strawberryblondie-locks]

We are one and the same

[goldtealeaves]

The Loud and Proud!

Featuring @maxphilippa's Mic gijinka!

[goatpunches]

new sketch zine launching soon… 😳

(digital versions will go on sale friday! physical copies will be available in january)

[tulipleafey]

“how about a game?”

[luxdraconia]

and now: the ultimate wof fan + coiner blast. Long post ahead!

BATCH 1 // BATCH 2 // BATCH 3

Desirsandwing — When one desires/yearns/wants to be a SandWing from Wings of Fire, in any or multiple ways.

Desiricewing — When one desires/yearns/wants to be an IceWing from Wings of Fire, in any or multiple ways.

Desirseawing — When one desires/yearns/wants to be a SeaWing from Wings of Fire, in any or multiple ways.

Desirrainwing — When one desires/yearns/wants to be a RainWing from Wings of Fire, in any or multiple ways.

Desirmudwing — When one desires/yearns/wants to be a MudWing from Wings of Fire, in any or multiple ways.

All of these terms are pro-nonharmful transitioning. These can be due to being an alter in a system, nonhumanity, delusions, etc.

[ Self Indulgent; No spoons for ID // @desirdae-archive @sharksnwaves ]

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 1: Swooning, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Welcome back to whumptober yet again >:D I’m going to try and do all 31 days again, we’ll see if I can manage it!

Anyways, this got longer then I meant it to, but I had to corral the ending into something that made sense XD Enjoy!

Read it on ao3

————————————————————

“You find that key yet, Rancher?” a voice called from way off in the distance.

Twilight barked back a negative, and continued to sniff around for the key to the exit of the room the others were in. There’d been a spot only his wolf form could easily get to, and so he’d climbed up to it and crawled through, moving soft dirt with his paws until he’d entered into the more spacious area he was in now.

The room appeared to be circular, but there were several high walls he couldn’t see over so he couldn’t tell for sure. They were somewhat maze-like, and confusing in their layout, so Twilight was forced to rely on scent, searching for the metallic, and no-doubt rusty-smelling key.

He turned several corners, following a faint metallic smell he hoped was his objective. There wasn’t much in the maze apart from a few rats and the concerning remains of a skeleton, and Twilight padded cautiously on, perking up the moment the glint of a treasure chest finally caught his eye. He ran up to it, and transformed back into a Hylian, eagerly opening the chest.

A dark, shining key sat inside, just what he’d been looking for.

Twilight reached inside with a warm feeling of satisfaction, then heard a faint click as he lifted the key. A cloud of dark particles shot up from the chest, blowing right in Twilight’s face, and he gasped involuntarily, inhaling a good portion of it.

He began coughing as the dust coated his throat, the dust making him choke as he stumbled backwards. The cloud settled after a moment, but Twilight kept coughing out whatever he could, blinking tears from his eyes and wiping dust off his face.

He patted himself down, and looked around for any threat or danger to his person, but the room was as silent as it had been, and apart from the dryness of his throat, Twilight felt no ill effects.

Must have been an old boobytrap, he thought to himself, coughing a bit more as he pocketed the key and headed back the way he came. Arrows or something were probably supposed to fly out at my face... Whatever it was probably disintegrated because they were so old.

Twilight coughed again, and shook more dust out of his hair.

It’s a good thing I wasn’t here a few decades sooner.

Twilight made it back out of the maze and into the other room without further incident, though the skeleton tried to grab him as he walked by. He easily fought it off, and told the others about it with a laugh as they continued through the dungeon, and the strange black dust entirely fled his mind.

The dungeon was large, obviously some kind of fort once upon a time, but it had been long abandoned apart from the monsters who’d taken up residence inside. The heroes ran into a large group of them shortly, and they set to work, room echoing with shouts and screeches alike.

Twilight went for a troublesome-looking gibdo (one of Legend’s fortunately, apparently his didn’t scream), and began attacking, slicing at the strangely thick bandages.

Sky was fighting another one nearby, and a little further away Legend was yelling something as Wild shot several fire arrows. A group of the gibdos burst into flames, but Twilight tried to focus on his own battle, even as Legend yelled at Wild again.

The gibdo wasn’t fast, but it was sturdy, and it took a lot of time for Twilight to make any headway in hurting it. He jumped around to the back of it more than once, slicing in the same spot, and the gibdo finally seemed like it was flagging after several of the attacks.

It made a move for him, swiping at his middle, but Twilight took the opportunity to roll around and run it through with his sword, the monster letting out an odd moan before collapsing into dust.

Twilight glanced at where the gibdo had swiped at him, but his tunic wasn’t even ripped. Satisfied that he was fine, he jumped back into the fray, avoiding a stalfos that jumped at him and nearly sliced off his arm. Twilight immediately went on the attack, blocking another swipe with his shield, and lunging forward to swipe at the monster.

But the moment he stepped forward, a strange wave of something swept over him, making him stumble. He blinked dizzily, head lightly spinning, and looked around in confusion.

His head felt light, the battle around him fading at the edges, and he put a hand to his head, wondering what on earth was going on.

He felt almost as if he was suffering the effects of an injury, a knock to the head, blood loss or something similar, but that gibdo had barely touched him, why was he..?

Twilight stumbled as he avoided a swipe from the stalfos’s blade, clumsily blocking it with his shield. The crash of the weapon hitting it made him wince, and he desperately tried to gather his wits about him so he could fight back.

What was going on here?

Twilight tried to go on the offensive, swinging his sword, but somehow he missed the stalfos entirely. The lack of resistance made him stumble, and the stalfos let out a strange clattering cackle as it swung at him again, red eyes blurring in Twilight’s vision.

A glowing blade suddenly entered his sight, and Twilight watched as Sky swiped straight through the stalfos that had been hedging him, the bones falling to pieces. The room was suddenly a lot quieter, and Twilight distantly realized that that must have been the last monster.

“Twilight, are you okay? That thing nearly got you!” Sky said with a smile, his voice only mildly worried as he sheathed his sword.

Twilight gave him a nod, blinking as he tried to make the room quit swimming around him. It refused to stop though, and Sky’s expression turned more truly concerned.

“Twilight? Are you all right?”

“Fine, I’m... I’m fine,” he said a little shakily, resting a hand on his head. “Think I... just...”

He coughed, black flecks falling on his hand, and his mind abruptly flashed back to the dust in the treasure chest.

...perhaps the boobytrap hadn’t been as ruined as he’d thought.

Sky’s eyes went wide, and the room suddenly lurched, shaking and wavering all around. Twilight heard a shout, but it was muffled and strange, and didn’t make any sense to his ears.

He couldn’t hold his weight any longer, and he felt his eyes roll back in his head as his legs gave out.

(...)

Something shook him, a bit frantically, and Twilight sluggishly came back to awareness.

He blinked his eyes open, and bit back a groan as he closed them again, his vision swirling and rolling around. Something was shaking him again, but Twilight didn’t reopen his eyes, afraid he would throw up if he did.

“Rancher, open your eyes, come on.”

Twilight reluctantly cracked them open, several things moving above him in dizzying color.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” the same voice asked him, and Twilight blinked, trying to focus on the things in his vision that kept blurring in and out of focus.

“Quit movin’ th’m,” he mumbled, and more voices echoed above him, making him only feel more dizzy as he tried to listen to them.

“Concussion you think?”

“He didn’t hit his head, there’s no injuries there I can find.”

“Well what’s wrong with him then?!”

“Has he had anything to eat today?”

“Probably needs a bath, he’s filthy.”

“Don’t be stupid, that wouldn’t make him faint!”

Twilight’s breath caught funny in his chest, and he coughed again, a sharp wave of vertigo hitting as someone sat him up. A groan escaped his lips, and a hand gently turned his head.

“Twilight, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Twilight blinked hazily, trying to focus on whoever was talking to him, but his vision refused to do what he wanted it to, and his dizziness grew to an excruciating degree.

He let out a whimper, uncertain of what was going on, and felt a sudden sharp pain in his chest, intense and painful. It spread through his body like liquid fire, and he cried out, moving suddenly agonizing.

“Twilight!”

The hand was back and frantically patting his cheek, and something moved in front of him again, but all Twilight could do was focus on the dizziness and pain that was demanding all of his attention.

“Twilight, please, focus, do you know what happened?”

Twilight breathed in shakily, tensing as another wave of pain ripped through him. He had to tell them what was wrong, he had to warn them in case there was more of the dust, in case it hurt one of them— but all he could do was try not to scream.

“Twilight?”

Twilight squeezed his eyes shut, then reopened them, trying to meet whoever was in front of him’s eyes.

“Th... dust...” he moaned, voice barely more then a whisper, “brea... thed...”

His breath caught with pain, and Twilight heard someone shout as the dizziness overcame him again, darkness washing over his vision.

(...)

When Twilight woke back up, he was being held between two people, arms over their shoulders.

He blinked dizzily, and saw stone under his feet, moving slowly as he was carried forward. We must still be in the dungeon.

Another wave of that strange fiery pain ripped through him, and Twilight gasped, making whoever was holding him startle.

“He’s awake!”

Footsteps clattered on the stone, and hands poked at him, lightly holding up his chin.

“Rancher? How are you feeling?”

Twilight couldn’t manage anything more then a groan, and something gently ran through his hair.

“Okay, that’s alright, you’re going to be fine. Can you drink something for us? Warriors thinks a potion will help.”

Twilight mumbled something he hoped was a good enough reply, and something cool was pressed to his lips. Sweetness hit his tongue as it was tilted back, and Twilight drank, waiting for the potion to kick in.

The very beginnings of warmth began to settle in his chest, but then his stomach lurched, and he jerked forward, coughing up the healing draught and gagging at the taste of it coming back up. It felt weirdly dry as well, nearly making him choke, and Twilight felt the arms come up to prop him into a slightly different position.

“Easy Rancher...”

“Should we give him another?”

“He won’t be able to keep it down, not with the way he’s acting.”

“Well now what?!”

“...Guys? He’s... not just throwing up potion.”

The room went oddly quiet, apart from Twilight’s harsh breathing, his stomach and head now swirling with nausea. He’d finished throwing up, but now his tongue and throat felt like sandpaper in his mouth. He coughed something out, and there was a hand on his cheek again, holding him steady.

“Four said he mentioned breathing in dust earlier... do you think that’s what he meant?”

“I don’t see what else he could have meant.”

“So the dust is making him like this... we just gotta get it out somehow!”

Twilight moaned as his head swirled, and something touched him, gently rubbing his shoulder as his awareness started to fade again.

“Don’t worry Twi, we’ll fix this. Just hold on.”

(...)

Twilight came to with a jolt the next time, something forcing his mouth open, air being pulled through his lips.

He heaved in a gasp, and hands moved to hold him down, voices talking far above his head and the ground rolling up and down under his back. He tried to struggle, but the hands were firm, and something brushed through his hair as he tried to drag in another gasp.

“I’m so sorry Twilight, but this’ll help, try and stay still.”

The wind increased in its intensity, and Twilight felt like every bit of air was being sucked from inside him, leaving him unable to breath, unable to fight, to get away they were holding him down—

A sob choked from his throat, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t resist, couldn’t stop them from doing whatever it was they were doing and it made him feel sick. What felt like sand fell down his cheeks, and he let out a breathless scream as the air continued to be pulled from him, the fire in his limbs blazing, his head swirling.

There was more talking but Twilight couldn’t focus on any of it, his world narrowed down to pain and wind and a scratchy feeling in his throat and lungs and all over inside of him.

It hurt.

He still couldn’t breathe, no matter how he thrashed or cried out and the pain was so intense and thick that the darkness soon dragged him under yet again.

(...)

A hand was brushing through his hair, teasing out knots, gentle in its motions.

Twilight didn’t do anything but focus on it for a minute, the touch soothing and calm. Then he realized just how dry his throat felt, his insides hollow, and he let out a breathy moan, trying to open his eyes.

“Whoa, easy,” someone said, and Twilight finally dragged his eyes open, pleasantly surprised when his vision didn’t smear. He was able to look to the side and meet who turned out to be Four’s eyes without any swirling spots or fire in his chest, and he felt a spark of equal relief and confusion.

“...’thy?” he rasped, and Four nodded, looking pleased.

“Hey, he’s awake!” another voice said, and Sky leaned over into Twilight’s vision. He looked tired, but there was a smile on his face. “Good to see you up, Rancher.”

“Oh thank Hylia,” another voice gasped, and Wild appeared in his vision as well, looking utterly relieved. “We weren’t sure if that was going to work or not.”

“If what w...work..?” Twilight croaked, and Sky, Four, and Wild all looked at each other.

“We had to get the dust out somehow,” Four said quietly, guilt thick in his voice. “I figured since you inhaled it... sucking it out would be our best bet.”

“Four has an item that worked rather well,” Sky said, though his smile had grown tight. “We weren’t sure at first if it had helped, but... well, we’re glad you’re all right, Rancher.”

Twilight blinked, and looked between the three. He was having some trouble following exactly what was being said, he felt sore and tired, and a bit like a paper straw someone had sucked air through a few too many times, but even he could tell that Four felt awful.

And sure, he didn’t quite know why, or remember exactly what had happened, but Four had helped him, and that was enough for Twilight.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, and worked past the bit of dizziness still in his head to reach over and pat Four’s hand. “Thank you.”

He couldn’t manage anything further, but it seemed like it was enough. Four took his hand in his and gave it a squeeze, and Twilight dredged up a smile.

“Screw dungeons,” Wild muttered fiercely, and went back to playing with Twilight’s hair. “They’re stupid and they suck.”

Twilight barked out a laugh, wheezy and uncomfortable, but it was worth it seeing the relieved looks that were exchanged above him.

“Agree. Screw ‘em,” he croaked.

[therantingsage]

Final batch of blogtember prompts! Once again, prompts provided by @jazzy-art-time / @mod-jazzy!! Thank you for giving me a buncha stuff to do this month!

Elaborations under the cut:

Day 21: I decided the funniest thing to do for this was to swap the shiny status of my Eevee twins. Cream and Cheese who did this to you! Uncanny!

Day 22: Ok genuinely one of the scenes I'm most interested in writing. These three characters are super old conceptually and near and dear to my heart. Once I get to doing stuff with them I'm going to be so!!! Excited!!!!

Day 23: I checked and it turns out I don't have like any nature photography on my phone? So I looked up cave pictures on google and picked one to put my rats in. Hello Remulus and Atticus nice to see you

Day 24: Hmm....important Apricorn. Wonder what that's about hmmmm

Day 25: This one!! Vexed me!! Because a lot of the ships in my blogs feel like plot spoilers to talk about? Or at least the ones I like the most. So I picked Anneva and Reginald! Because I've mentioned Anneva on inquiries and I've drawn them both on here in the past. They're a comfort duo.

Day 26: If Paleo and Tide have one fan its me bro!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Initially I tried to draw him awkwardly giving her flowers but I couldn't get the pose right so instead they're going on a park date! Hi again Jazzy I love your slug and so does Paleo!!!! Their dynamic is fun and cute and I like them!!!!!!

Day 28: I think I mentioned it once or twice? These four on fugamsemidei are based on slugcats in Rain World. In fact the first time I drew them at all was in a big batch of Poke-RW doodles. I just decided I liked them enough to make them characters on the blog. And they fit with the rest of the cast well enough so I don't have any shame lmao

Day 29: Anyone remember this gem??? I do. I rediscovered it recently and went "oh. Oh this is a Gravity song woaw"

Day 29 again: So uh I tried really hard to figure out something for day 27's prompt but I genuinely could not find anything within the time frame. So instead I just did day 29 twice. Neura with this song. Because a lot of people are really unhappy because of her actions. She's to blame for so much strife and grief. Deep down and also not that deep at all she's overcome with guilt but she's not gonna change anything rip.

Day 30: The first ever blog post I made was a poorly-drawn Aspen on phantumpdaily. But that's not particularly interesting to look at, and also I've drawn Aspen just floating there on many occasions so that post isn't super unique. So, instead, I drew the first post on the rebooted version of that blog: the intro to asklucyphantump. That was more directly an askblog than phantumpdaily anyway so this isn't cheese I swear skdfjashdf